7 heroes, plus one
by frogtopia
Summary: after the giants war, the 7 half-bloods have answered the call and are now enjoying the life of piece that they have all dreamed about. leo has even made it back to the group after taking a little side track to rescue calypso. but the world of demigods never rests, and a new figure has travelled a very long way out of instinct and a post card, to save them all.


**I do not own pj or HoO. But I do own this side of the story ;) so I hope that you enjoy my new story and pretty please leave reviews. I love constructive criticism that just might help me to improve my writing style. I also love new ideas for adventures these characters may one day go on. Hope you all like it****. **

**Chapter 1**

I looked down at the lifeless stag, festered, decaying, and covered with flies. There was a bullet hole that pierced straight through the head, and out of the wound crawled hundreds of white maggots. Its tongue was hanging out of its mouth, and the grass was stained with day old blood. As I looked at its blank, stupid eyes, instead of sadness or petty, I could only notice how pathetic the whole seen had looked. Not that this once majestic beast was now at the end of its rein on life, but the scene of death itself.

Life is nothing more than a chemical reaction, and any disturbance causes it to fall to the ground like rag doll, just as a cruel reminder that we are only a cluster of atoms, formed in the right order to allow us to do the things we do. A cluster of atoms in the right order; pathetic.

I covered my face with my bandana to block the retched smell of decay and looked back up at the animal trail ahead. But as I took my first step away from the scene of the dead stag, my boot made a thick, sloshing noise. I looked down to see my brown-leather trek boots covered in blood and dear brains. I shook my foot in the direction of the bush beside me and continued to walk through the heat of the summers day, no longer caring about the slight sloshing noise I was making whenever I stepped with my left foot.

I stopped under the shade of a big tree in the middle of a meadow to catch my breath and re-hydrate. looking up and squinting at the sun, it had to have been around 4pm. I would still have a few more hours left of sun light, but this place looked as good as any to make camp. I dropped my heavy pack at the trunk of the tree and walked back into the tree line to collect some dead tree branches, maybe even find some berries.

After setting up my base for the night, it had already become dark and I picked up my lantern and map under my tarp tent and tracked how long I had walked that day. 20km. not too bad I guess, but I most certainly could do better. I still had 1000 km to walk before I reach long island, and I still hadn't crossed the border between Canada and the U.S. yet. Summer was closing, I could feel it in the night air, I would give it a week or two before the leaves would start changing colour. New York, State at least at the start of the fall. Don't ask why, just accept it and move on.

Sometimes when you're out in the middle of nowhere, where the only sounds you hear are the occasional gusts of wind that scurry across the tops of the trees, and the very rare animal noise (especially in these parts) you have never truly experienced how scary the quiet can be. It's not the isolation, or lack of internet/ cell connection that drives people insane, it's the silence. It haunts me. It's like the breath of peace before the storm. I fear the day when the last thing I hear before it all ends for me, will be the silence.

Before I could allow my mind to wander even farther, I grab the torn up journal from my back pack and click twice on my mechanical pencil. I had made it a habit to write down my basic info on the day's events at the end of every day; my position on the map, distance travelled supplies I used up or need to acquire, and maybe a note or two on any special events that may have occurred. I decided to not add the part about the dead stag. It was a train of thought I won't regret forgetting.

I started at the top of a new page, and began to fill out: …

_Day 23_

_Distance travelled: __20km __distance yet to go: __1000km_

_Estimated time until arrival: under 1 month_

_Supplies used: 1 protein bar, ½ bag of trial mix, hole in right jacket pocket_

_Supplies needed: sewing kit, snacks, band aids, Tylenol, more bug spray._

Writing everyday seemed to calm me, it helped me to remember that I am still human, that I have goals to achieve, a family I could possibly face again some day; that no matter the crazy events that have led me to this crazy ordeal that has formed my life for the past month. Has it really been a month? I thought to myself. Time goes by fast when your constantly on the run.

Before I could let myself think any farther about my past and all of the shit that has unfolded so far, I reached to the knob of the lantern and turned out the light. I'm not too sure if I was crying, I had gotten so used to this feeling. But never the less I Barrie my face into my make shift pillow to ignore my emotion that thought they could corrupt my sleep, and before I knew it, the silence had returned.

**Thanks for barring with me so far. Ill try and post every week if I can. I really like this story idea, but I always love story ideas and cannons, so suggest away. And I'm trying to improve my writing abilities so I ask with lots of pretty pleases to leave constructive criticism. More is on the way, so hold tight, and I ask you to bare with me a little longer. Oh and I know this chapter was a little short, but ill try and get them longer as the story progresses.**


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